


crush culture

by lilaliacs



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Love Letters, M/M, Pining, Woojin centric, hwangchamhwi are brothers, lj!woojin, only not really, peter k!jihoon, tatblib au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-11 14:51:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16477631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilaliacs/pseuds/lilaliacs
Summary: As a rare exception in this life, he says his next words with the conviction of a person who knows his beliefs to be something of indisputable truth. Like a missionary, or a high schooler who googled the answer under his desk, or those people on late-night television who try to sell their household appliances.“I’m not trying to date you, Park Jihoon.”





	crush culture

**Author's Note:**

> to the prompter: i hope i did your prompt justice! i had a lot of fun writing this, seeing as it's one of my absolute favourite movies this year and two of my absolute favourite boys! <3 that being said i played a bit with the characters, plot and dynamics, and it was also a lot of fun exploring that^^
> 
> title from [crush culture by conan gray](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GzYSzV7Mltc)

No matter how you look at it, sophomore year was the weirdest year of Woojin’s life. 

In retrospect, he still thinks his hormones should have just stayed tucked away in their little vacation retreat he’d miraculously kept them in all of middle school and junior year, but he couldn’t really help it when they started to rebel and get aspirations in life. 

As soon as the year he turned 16 started, after he had made a reputation for himself on the soccer club with his skills, and among his peers with the disastrous try at bright red hair the summer before, his hormones clearly thought it was time for them to finally contribute to society, and they started working on time-consuming projects like a growth spurt, and _feelings_. 

It wasn’t that Woojin never had a crush before the age of 16, but it was that year that he _realized_ it for what it had been, not mistaking the butterflies that he’d felt when he was thirteen as a weird case of the flu. 

A big reason for his obliviousness as a freshly baked teenager, or so Yena had loudly proclaimed it, one fateful day in sophomore year, had been heteronormativity. 

“Of course you didn’t realize you had a crush on Daniel.” She had exclaimed, their chemistry homework forgotten on the ground of her bedroom floor. “We live in a society that likes to pretend homosexuality doesn’t exist. Every day, hetrosexual parents work actively for the erasure of gay people in mainstream media, because they’re somehow under the impression that being exposed to same-sex attraction could be _harmful_ to children--” 

Woojin had stopped listening then, and used the remaining ten minutes of Yena’s rant to truly think about the revelation he’d just made. 

He’d known he was bisexual for about a year at that point, but it wasn’t like the realization had come with a series of romantic escapades, especially not with Minhyun’s boyfriend. 

When Woojin had been thirteen, Daniel hadn’t been Minhyun’s boyfriend. Daniel had just been the guy who lived across the street from school, and who’d taught Woojin how to skate in the summer he’d started middle school. 

Daniel had only become Minhyun’s boyfriend when Woojin turned 15, and by then he had managed to get rid of his peculiar butterfly-flu. 

Fast forward to sophomore year, and Woojin was 100% sure he was entirely immune to that particular case of the flu. Daniel was a great guy, sure, but not only had Woojin grown to see him as only that in the last year and a half, he was also subjected every day to witnessing exactly how disgustingly made for each other Daniel and his older brother were. 

One time Woojin had walked in on Minhyun making kissy-noises at his phone, in the middle of an exchange of “No _you_ hang up first.” and he could positively say it changed him, fundamentally, as a person. 

Still, even after all that, Woojin was only about a third into sophomore year, and he felt bad for ever crushing on Daniel, and never telling Minhyun. Woojin sucked at keeping secrets to himself, as soon as he tried to keep even the smallest white lie alive, he constantly felt like he was going to combust. 

For about a week after that fateful afternoon at Yena’s house, he tried to live with this grave new realization. But soon, sitting across from Minhyun at dinner had gotten unbearable, and even Daehwi realized that something was up with him. 

“Stop overthinking.” His younger brother had chimed one night when they were marathoning 90’s cartoons. Minhyun had abandoned their year old tradition for a date-night with Daniel. 

“What am I supposed to be overthinking?” Woojin had asked, voice a tad too high, and for once it wasn’t because of his overachieving hormones. He hoped Daehwi wouldn’t notice. 

“I don’t know, but I can hear your brain overheating from all the way over here.” Daehwi gestured at the empty space in between them on the couch. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“No.” Came Woojin’s reply, way too fast to not be suspicious. 

But Daehwi only shrugged. He’d already given Woojin up as a lost cause. “...Alright. Well, I heard journals are a great outlet, if someone’s as bad at human interaction as you are.”

Woojin wasn’t one for journals. He knew this because he tried, in 6th grade. It was when Minhyun had started keeping a dream journal, and he’d bought all that cute stationery, and Woojin, still somehow convinced that Minhyun was the coolest person he knew and that everything Minhyun did _had_ to be the best way to live life, had attempted to copy his older brother. 

It had been a disastrous mix of Woojin’s terrible chicken scratch and liquid glue all over the carpet of his room, and he’d given up less than a week into the project. 

Woojin sure as hell wasn’t going to start another try at journaling, as reasonable as Daehwi’s suggestion sounded. The idea stuck with him though, for another week, and after another dinner where their Dad had thought it a _wonderful_ idea to invite Daniel along, Woojin took to the laziest version of an outlet he could think of: 

He turned to the first blank page in his history notebook and started pouring all of his thoughts out. _Dear Daniel,_ he started, and _I loved you first_ he continued. He still made an effort with his handwriting in the beginning, but by the end of the page, he’d already given up. Nevertheless, he didn’t stop writing, and when he finished with a sprawled _Love, Woojin_ and put the pen to the side, he took a second to apprehensively stare at the dried ink. 

Then he turned the page over and started on his actual homework. 

Dinners became bearable again, he didn’t get the overwhelming urge to change his name and move to Peru when Daniel asked him if he wanted to come along to the skatepark, and by their next 90’s cartoon night, Daehwi threw him a meaningful look. 

The letter worked like magic. 

So it became a habit. 

By the end of his hormones’ midlife-crisis that was sophomore year, Woojin’s history notebook held five letters in total: 

The first, safely tucked away between half-assed essays about ancient greece, was the one to Daniel of course. 

The next had followed not long after that, when Woojin realized that what he had felt for Park Jihoon, star of the drama club and student representative, for the entirety of freshman year hadn’t been deeply rooted fear. _Dear Jihoon,_ it started. _You are fucking terrifying, but perhaps I would have been less terrified of you when we first met, if you hadn’t yelled at me to vote you for student rep. When you smile, your eyes start glittering, kind of. That’s a very useful technique to get people to vote for you. (I did, by the way.)_

Listening to Jihoon’s voice over the speakers at morning announcements had become far less tortuous after that. 

Jihoon had been a striking exception, he’d realized soon after. Woojin didn’t do pining for strangers, usually. Daniel had been a good example for that, and so were all of the other romantic excursions Woojin’s feelings forced him on in sophomore year. 

He’d only barely managed to hide the letter he’d written to his new neighbour from his history teacher’s prying eyes. 

Bae Jinyoung was a timid boy, who’d clung to a cat box with an unreadable expression as his parents started unloading the moving truck when Woojin had come home from school one day. Woojin’s first thought had been how pretty Jinyoung’s hair looked in the afternoon sun, and the next how hard it would be to befriend someone equally as shy as he was. 

It hadn’t taken long for Daehwi to do the work for him. Only a few days later, Woojin had stepped out of the bathroom without a shirt on, walked into the kitchen to grab a snack, and promptly walked out again, blushing furiously, because Bae Jinyoung was sitting next to Daehwi at their kitchen island. Jinyoung had had his back to the door, and there wasn’t even a slight possibility that he’d witnessed Woojin’s heart-attack, but Woojin had still hidden in his room for the rest of the day. 

_Dear Jinyoung,_ he’d written in his notebook. _There’s a cat-café across town, I think you’d really like it there…_

Daehwi had annoyed Woojin to drive to said cat café with him and Jinyoung and their friend Somi the week after, and Woojin had accidentally spilled chocolate milk all over his shirt, and Jinyoung had laughed at him, and Woojin found that he didn’t even feel like blushing in the slightest anymore. 

A little while later, they were nearing the end of Sophomore year, his history notebook had been suspiciously devoid of anything non-historical in a while, Woojin had walked onto the soccer field for Spring tryouts, and was surprised to find Hwang Hyunjin there. Seeing Hyunjin, in general, shouldn’t come as a surprise to Woojin, because Hyunjin had been one of his closest friends ever since they started high school, but he’d never in a million years expected him on the soccer field out of all places. 

He never asked Hyunjin what inspired him to pick up the sport, too preoccupied with teaching him all the basics, and by the time Hyunjin had those down, Woojin was too preoccupied with other things. Because Hyunjin being the only person from their group of friends who was also on the soccer team, meant that he spent a lot of time with Hyunjin _without_ their group of friends, and without Sohye and Hyungseob distracting him with their updates about drama club, and without Yena drowning everyone out with her obnoxiously loud laughter, Hyunjin’s attention was on Woojin alone when he explained game plans and the likes. 

_Dear Hyunjin,_ Woojin had scribbled down after one soccer practice. They had played a scrimmage and Hyunjin had enthusiastically pulled him into a hug after their team won. _Your smile when you pulled off that complicated play earlier nearly made me run into a goal post._

Hyunjin had started dating their libero, Seungmin, only a few weeks later, and when he bounded up to Woojin after practice, smiling and with a small blush on his cheeks, Woojin knew that the high five he offered him was full of nothing but sincerity. 

The fifth and last letter sat on the very last page of the history notebook. Woojin had sorted through his school bag for about twenty minutes to find it. Two weeks into Summer and he’d already forgotten where he placed most of his material. 

It was unbearably hot that day, and Ha Sungwoon, the owner of the diner Woojin and a handful of kids from school had found summer jobs at, didn’t believe in something like uniforms. Woojin had thought it was kind of a bummer until that day, because he’d always liked the classic 60s waiter look, but on that particular day he’d downright cursed Sungwoon’s non-existent uniform choices. 

Yena’s shirt had been made of a light, flowing kind of fabric that had shimmered in pink and blue, and her ponytail had been _cascading_ over her shoulders as she bounced around the diner taking orders and Woojin had wanted to slap himself the entire shift because _”cascading”_ was a word-choice he knew Yena would have laughed at him for. 

When he finally managed to locate his history notebook he immediately flipped to the last page and wrote: _Dear Yena, when your grandma used to joke in kindergarten, about how we would surely end up married someday, I thought that was really weird, but now I don’t think it’s weird at all. When we were 11 you said you wouldn’t wanna take your husband’s last name, and I don’t remember what I replied back then but I think I’d be okay with that._

That summer, after talking to Yena had become normal again, and Woojin discarded the marriage plans, he had spent a lot of time rereading his letters. 

By the time junior year started, he’d come to the conclusion that crushes were bullshit. Not in general, he assured Yena when Kang Hyewon transferred to their school, just _his_ crushes specifically. None of them were ever the real deal, all of them faded out over time, and left him to shake his head in disappointment at himself. 

With the beginning of junior year, Woojin banned himself from crushes. He sent all his feelings back to the vacation retreat at the back of his mind, and he put his history notebook away with the rest of his sophomore notebooks. 

Love letters, he decided, were for actual love, not for dramatic teenage boys who thought they knew what they were doing. 

And it worked. All of junior year, no comment made him blush, no smile made him swoon, no nice gesture made him ready to promise his hand in marriage. It was a nice, peaceful life, junior year, and by the end of it he was ready to continue this nice, peaceful life, up until college, hell, up until retirement if it should come that far. 

The universe, of course, never cares for what you’re ready for. 

***

“Woojin. Woojin. _Woojin_. Woojin Woojin Wooj--” 

“I replied the first time you said my name, Daehwi.” Woojin whines from his place on the couch. 

“I know.” Daehwi nods, plopping down next to him. “But you didn’t look at me.” 

“You’re insufferable.” Woojin grumbles, pulling his legs to his chest, so Daehwi doesn’t ‘accidentally’ sit down right on them. “What do you want?” 

“Minhyun is out with Daniel.” 

Woojin blinks at him. “Thank you for that information. It’s not like Minhyun reminded us about fivehundredthousand times before we even left for school this morning.” He deadpans. 

Daehwi pouts at his sarcasm. “Minhyun is out, and he can’t help me with my homework.” He says then. 

“Okay.” Woojin replies, before his eyes widen in understanding. “Wait. _Wait._ No. Absolutely not. No.” 

Immediately, Daehwi bounces closer to him, wrapping a pleading hand around his arm. “C’mon, _please._ Sophomore year is eating me alive, I have no idea what any of my history and chemistry assignments even _mean_.” 

“That is your own personal problem!” Woojin exclaims, trying to shake his brother off. 

“Woojin.” Daehwi whines. He draws Woojin’s name out in that special way that only a younger sibling ever manages to make as obnoxious as it possibly can be. “You took all of these classes before. It’s basically your moral obligation to explain them to me!” 

“I’m a Senior in high school, Daehwi. Do you seriously think I can explain course material from two years ago to you?! I couldn’t even explain course material from _last week_ , if I wanted to!” 

Daehwi’s pout turns into something resigned then, and for a second, Woojin hopes he’s off the hook, but then Daehwi’s eyes light up with an idea. 

“You still have all your notes though, right?” 

“Yeah, Dad made me keep them all. For future reference, or something.” 

Daehwi’s grin grows wider. “ _I’m_ the future reference!” He chirps, and then jumps up from the couch. 

“What are you doing?” Woojin calls after him when Daehwi starts bounding up the stairs. 

“I’m gonna copy your shitty essays from two years ago!” Is the reply he gets. 

Woojin thinks this over for about five seconds, notes the insult in Daehwi’s words, remembers that his history teacher retired last year anyways, realizes that this solution means that he doesn’t even have to get up from the couch, and yells back: “Alright, knock yourself out!” 

***

“This one guy in my government class has three cats, but he’s allergic to them.” Jinyoung announces over the noise of the cafeteria. 

“God, I wish that was me.” Sohye sighs. 

Hyungseob chirps up at that: “You want to be allergic to cats?” 

Woojin points an apple slice at her. “You want to be in Jinyoung’s gov class.” 

“Nobody wants to be in Jinyoung’s gov class, their teacher is a menace.” Hyunjin intersects with a shake of his head. 

“I hate all of you.” Sohye grumbles into her salad. “Three cats wouldn’t do this to me.” 

They probably would have discussed this more in depth, but in that moment they’re interrupted by a shadow falling over Sohye’s salad and Woojin’s apple slices. A stack of paper is unceremoniously dropped next to them. 

“Pretend I talked, you know how this goes, do the thing.” Park Jihoon says. He clutches the cup of iced coffee in his hands, nods once, and then walks off to the next table, presumably to do the same. 

“I think his eyes were closed that entire time.” Jinyoung speaks up after a few seconds of confused silence. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s the fifth cup of coffee I’ve seen him drink today.” Sohye adds. 

“What’s up with him?” Woojin absentmindedly asks while picking up one of the papers Jihoon had left them with. It’s a flyer, he realizes after further inspection. In bright bubbly font it’s telling him to vote Park Jihoon For Student Rep, again, for the fourth time in a row. 

“There’s rumours.” Hyungseob answers his question. The gleam in his eyes tells Woojin that Hyungseob had already made a pastime out of collecting as many rumours about Park Jihoon as humanly possible. 

“I heard Kang Mina say that he’s failing five of his classes. That was boring, so I stopped listening. Kim Yerim said he was in an affair with Mrs. Langford and her husband found out, but for one, Yerim is Jihoon’s best friend and just likes to see the world burn and also I’m pretty sure Langford isn’t married.” He has his hands folded on top of the table as if he’s giving a lecture of utmost importance. “Huang Renjun, as always, pleads for--” 

“Aliens.” Jinyoung interrupts him. “He gave me the whole talk this morning in calculus. Pretty convincing, to be honest.”

“So what’s the truth, Seobbie?” Sohye asks. 

“Kim Jiwoo is running for student rep alongside him.” Hyungseob replies with a solemn nod. 

“Oh, wow, that’s tough. _Everyone_ loves Jiwoo.” Hyunjin whistles. 

“Yeah, no shit. Jihoon’s gonna need some serious publicity stunts to keep his title this year.” 

Woojin looks in between his friends as they all nod in agreement. “You know that we’re talking about the position of student representative at a shitty high school in the middle of nowhere, right? It’s literally not that deep.” 

“It’s Park Jihoon versus Kim Jiwoo, Woojin.” Hyungseob retorts, wide-eyed. “It _literally_ is that deep.” 

***

“It’s _not_ that deep, right, Daehwi?!” Woojin asks a few hours later. 

“Keep your eyes on the road and I’ll agree with everything you say.” Daehwi gives back. His knuckles are white from where he’s gripping onto the seatbelt. 

“I never crashed a car.” Woojin grumbles, even though he knows Daehwi is aware of that, it’s just his job to be annoying. “I’m just saying, I don’t get why they’re taking this so serious. Or why anyone is taking it so serious.” 

“Well, my friends spent all day talking about it, too.” Daehwi shrugs. “But that’s just because Hyejoo has a massive crush on Jiwoo and Chenle likes to tease her about it.”

“From what Hyungseob said, half the school has a crush on Jiwoo.” 

He feels Daehwi’s eyes narrow in on him before the other actually says anything. 

“Why don’t you have a crush on Jiwoo?” He asks. 

“Why should I?” 

“Okay, let me rephrase. Why don’t you have a crush on _anyone_?” 

Woojin has to suppress a deep sigh. Daehwi doesn’t know the full extent of Woojin’s experience with crushes. He’d still been in middle school when Woojin was in sophomore year. 

“Because crushes suck. I’m a busy man, I don’t have time for that stuff.” 

It’s quiet for a long moment after that. The moment is nearly long enough to make Woojin worry, because long moments are where Daehwi’s devilish little brain works best, but before he can voice any concern, Daehwi leans back into his seat and hums: “Okay, whatever you say.” 

***

Woojin banned every thought about crushes and love and sophomore year back to the little locked box in his mind where they belong. 

They stayed there for an entire weekend, before they decided they were bored. Or maybe the universe had been bored, and just out to fuck Woojin over for the laughs. 

Daehwi interrupts himself mid-sentence when they get out of Woojin’s car on Monday morning, proclaiming he’s already late and his math teacher is going to skin him alive, he’s seen her do it to other students. Watching Daehwi run off, Woojin realizes that that probably means that he is late for first period sociology too. He can’t bring himself to care. 

While he locks his car, he thinks that Sohye would probably call this senioritis, but he just calls it a cup of coffee short from falling asleep where he stands. Perhaps, it’s the same thing. 

When he turns around, he nearly crashes into Park Jihoon. 

This is peculiar for a multitude of reasons. For one, he and Jihoon take the same sociology class, and until this day, Woojin was under the impression that Park Jihoon would rather die than be late to any class, especially ones taught by Mr. Yoon. Further, Jihoon is looking at him with purpose, as if he has something important to say, and Woojin can’t fathom for the life of him what someone like Park Jihoon would have to say to him. 

“Dude.” Is what he himself comes up with, when Jihoon doesn’t actually say anything and just continues staring. “I don’t know if this is a new tactic to get more votes, or something, but you need to chill. Staring individual people down is bound to freak someone out and make them issue a restraining order.” 

Jihoon responds by holding up something directly in front of Woojin’s face. It’s an envelope, Woojin realizes after his eyes have gotten used to its sudden proximity. There’s little drawings on it in bright pink pen, not unlike the one Woojin knows Daehwi to use nearly exclusively, and he’s just about to compliment Jihoon on his envelope doodles and ask what the everloving hell is going on, when his eyes zero in on the writing on the envelope. 

Woojin is listed as the sender. 

“Listen, Woojin.” Jihoon, finally, says. “I don’t know if this is a practical joke, or a weird new meme, or if you’re just confused, but I really don’t have time for this--” 

“Yeah, I didn’t send that.” 

Jihoon rolls his eyes, again. He manages to squeeze a lot of eye-rolls into a remarkable small amount of time, Woojin notes. “Sure you didn’t, it’s just your address on the envelope, and your awful handwriting in the letter, and your name at the bottom of it, that seems logical.” 

“Your sarcasm is not appreciated.” 

“Well, neither are your advances.” 

That makes Woojin start. “My… what?” 

“I don’t care if you think my eyes sparkle, or whatever. I can’t afford to care about _anyone_ thinking that my eyes sparkle, not even you, Park Woojin, and I really don’t know what you were trying to accomplish--”

Woojin doesn’t wait for Jihoon to finish his tirade before he snags the letter from his wildly gesticulating hands and unfolds it. 

Sure enough, his own handwriting looks back up at him. _Dear Jihoon,_ it reads, as well as every single rosy pink thought Woojin has had about Jihoon all throughout freshman year. _Love, Woojin_ , it ends. 

With the way his heart is beating when he lowers the letter, he’s imagining it running around screaming, in a circle around the remnants of his life and dignity, which are on fire. 

“Still gonna pretend you _didn’t_ write this?” Jihoon asks. He has his hands on his hips and Woojin doesn’t think anyone has ever looked at him this disapprovingly in his entire life. 

“Okay, listen--” He starts, but then movement over Jihoon’s shoulder catches his eye. 

The student parking lot looks out over the school premises on one side, the one farthest away from where they are stood right now. The other side is open to the adjacent neighbourhood, all boring white picket fences and tastefully pastel coloured shutters. 

From behind one of those white picket fences, Woojin can see Daniel emerging. 

This shouldn’t be anything noteworthy to him. For one, Daniel lives there. Second, Daniel spends so much time at Woojin’s home, that the sight of him leisurely jogging along the sidewalk should fade into the background of whatever Woojin is looking at, at all times. 

What makes Daniel emerging from behind his picket fence noteworthy on this particular Monday morning, is that he is leisurely jogging directly in Woojin’s direction, with an expression on his face that spells the same kind of discomfort for Woojin that Jihoon’s angry one had only ten minutes before. In his hand, Woojin can make out a stark white envelope. If he was closer, he’s sure he could make out pink doodles on it, too. 

“No.” He all but whines. “No.” 

“What, ‘no’?” Jihoon asks, puzzled, and thus reminds Woojin of his presence. 

Woojin needs a distraction, and he needs it quick, and Jihoon’s presence is the only thing in his immediate proximity. 

So, Woojin does what anyone would have done: He takes Jihoon by the shoulders while the other is still glaring at him in confusion, pushes him against the closed door of his battered up Ford and presses his lips onto Jihoon’s. 

Woojin doesn’t have a lot of kissing expertise, but his objective here is not quality, it’s a working alibi. Good working alibis take time, he knows, and with his sociology class going on somewhere in the school building, and Jihoon being an involuntary participant in the alibi, time doesn’t seem like something he has. 

After five seconds, he realizes that Jihoon has not attempted to murder him yet, or broken his leg, or bitten a piece out of his face. Jihoon’s chapped lips are perfectly still under his. 

He leans back, takes a half step back too, for good measure. He awkwardly brushes off invisible dust from Jihoon’s hoodie, the most strained version of a casual smile on his lips. “Thanks, good talk.” he nods. 

Then he bolts. 

The universe doesn’t want to give Woojin a break, it seems, because at the end of his sprint, what waits for him by his locker is not some peace and quiet, but Yena. That in itself is just as little unusual as seeing Daniel strolling out of his house, Yena has a free period first thing on Mondays and more often than not she’ll wait by his locker and try to convince him to skip Sociology and hang out with her instead. In general, Yena hangs around his locker a lot, it’s a perk that comes with having a best friend, someone to give your locker company while you’re not there just yet. 

What makes it unusual, as it had Daniel, is the pristine white envelope in Yena’s hand. Also the fact that she doesn’t immediately launch into a rant about the latest cooking show she’s been watching, or the bigoted old lady that lives next to her, or Kang Hyewon. She stays entirely silent as Woojin catches his breath and opens his locker, pretending that even the attempt to still go to his Sociology class, about 25 minutes late by now, is anything but futile. On a normal Monday morning, Yena would be overjoyed with this, now she’s just silent, right up until Woojin closes his locker and turns to her with a defeated huff. 

She extends the hand with the letter. “Did you want that back?” 

It takes his all for Woojin not to grimace. “Honestly, I never wanna see one of these envelopes again.” 

Yena nods and promptly stuffs the offending letter into her messenger bag quite unceremoniously. When it’s out of sight, the deserted hallway turns quiet again, until Yena clears her throat. 

“You know when I revisited that whole _not taking my husband’s last name_ thing last year and decided I’d be fine with taking my wife’s last name and I don’t actually ever want a husband?” She asks, nearly carefully. 

Woojin actually grimaces this time. “Yes, I do remember that. It was last year, about a year after I wrote this and after I got over whatever that was.” He vaguely gestures to Yena’s messenger bag. 

He can basically see some of the trepidation fall from Yena’s face. “Okay, cool. And you also know that Hyunjin is still dating Seungmin and that Jinyoung is, like, in love with your brother, right?” 

Woojin doesn’t think this conversation can turn any more uncomfortable, but he tries to work around it and seem as casual and collected as he possibly can as he nods. “I had cut ties with those, uh, _phases_ , before I even wrote your letter.” He hurries to explain. 

“Okay, great, because the two of them were already starting to get competitive about that.” Yena grins. Before Woojin can ask what there is to get competitive about, she continues: “I have one last question. If these are all from about two years ago, how come we got them _now_? Were they stuck at the post office, or something?” 

And that, frankly, is an excellent question. As far as Woojin is concerned, these letters should still sit exactly where he left them, with the rest of his sophomore year notes in some random box in his room. 

As far as Woojin is concerned, these letters should have never influenced his life in any other way than helping him get over superficial infatuations. As far as he is concerned, none of this should be happening, but Woojin is nothing if not a man of the easiest way. 

‘The Easiest Way’, in this case is very clearly the truth. The letters _have_ no significance, because they’re a thing of the past, having served their purpose. Surely everyone who received one will understand that, and everyone can move on, and Woojin’s love life can go back to where it belongs: His brain’s vacation retreat. 

He is just about to explain it in detail to Yena, maybe even give her the dignified task of sharing the knowledge with Jinyoung and Hyunjin as well, when the universe sends Woojin a sign, that it thinks his _easy_ way out of this is garbage.

The sign comes in form of heavy steps rounding the corner. Soon, Wong Yukhei steps onto the scene of Woojin’s rapidly crumbling high school experience, in all his letterman-jacket-wearing glory.

Yukhei, Woojin and Yena all share second period Biology on Tuesdays, they have done group projects before and are on a friendly basis. That’s why it’s not unusual when Yukhei stomps their way with a wide grin on his face. 

What makes the encounter unusual, is the words that spill out from said wide grin when Yukhei is still way too far away from them to start a conversation: “Hey, Woojin, I heard you were seen playing tonsil hockey with Park Jihoon by the student lot! Nice going, dude, that’s Mr. President himself.” 

Only when he finishes booming his poorly worded praises out for everyone in a ten mile radius to hear, does he actually reach Woojin and Yena by the lockers, and by the time Yena’s wide eyes have turned their terrifying gleam back on Woojin and Yukhei has raised his hand in a no doubt sincere and empowering high-five, Woojin has already ducked in between the two of them and is, for the second time that day, bolting. 

***

He’s not quite sure how he manages it, but this fateful Monday is the first time that he avoids to talk to each and every one of his friends the whole time that he is in school. It may have something to do with the fact that he makes sure to be the first to run from every class he shares with them, and then hide out in a randomly selected bathroom until after the next class has started to stumble into that one. 

The disappointed looks he gets from his teachers are only half as grating on his nerves as the judgingly curious ones from his friends. 

By the time lunch rolls around, Woojin has run out of options, and as he leaves Math a whole 7 and a half minutes early, taking his bag with him on the most conspicuous bathroom run of all time, he decides that he’s sick of the hide and seek. 

This, of course. doesn’t mean that he’s going to let his friends confront him. It means that he is upgrading from hiding to running. He already missed first period Sociology this morning, he is basically already a high school dropout, so it won’t even make a difference if he ditches his afternoon classes, is what he decides as he goes straight from his Math class to the student’s parking lot. 

Ten minutes later, he realizes that Daehwi won’t have a ride home when he’s going, but by then he’s already halfway down Heather Court. Daehwi has friends with cars, anyways, he is going to survive, probably.

He still shoots Daehwi a warning text as soon as he sinks down into a worn out booth, skillfully ignoring all the other texts in his notifications for later. He may be a wreck, rapidly spiralling downwards, socially, but he’s currently the holder of the _#1 Brother_ sash, for the first time in months, and he’s not gonna lose the tacky thing to Minhyun so fast _again_. 

_Sungwoon’s Shakes and Snacks_ is a diner that’s nearly downtown, nearly authentic and nearly always the only spot that isn’t ridiculous overcrowded when Woojin and his friends go out. As soon as he got over Sungwoon’s preferred choice of music when he worked here, that fateful summer after sophomore year, Woojin found himself growing quite fond of the place, and more so of whatever Sungwoon put in his strawberry shakes.

Woojin swears it can’t be regular strawberries, but that doesn’t stop him from ordering one anyways, when Eunbi comes by his booth. 

It’s not her who brings him his drink, but the owner of the establishment himself. 

“Eunbi thinks you should be in school. She is concerned.” Sungwoon informs him without much preamble as he sets the glass down. Woojin knows for a fact that Eunbi doesn’t actually give a damn, she has served him and his friends multiple times before when they were supposed to be in school, without any qualms. 

Still, he decides to humour Sungwoon. “Eunbi would be right.” He nods. 

Sungwoon narrows his eyes, hisses: “I knew it.”

He doesn’t brood on the fact that his carefully crafted cover is now blown, as he leans closer into Woojin’s business. “Education is important, Woojin, you--” 

It sounds like a speech he memorised for the exact moment he found one of _”his”_ kids loitering around the diner to avoid school, in some well-meant surge of parenting instincts, or because his kindergarten-teacher-roommate told him about the importance of education in the most formative years. Woojin couldn’t care less for it at this moment and he tells Sungwoon precisely that. 

“I get where you’re coming from, but I don’t give a damn. I’m angsting, Sungwoon, so please leave me and my strawberry shake alone now. To angst.” 

He manages to shoo the older away after some initial protest, and then he’s alone with his shake, Eunbi by the counter, getting more and more irritated by the Keurig, and a pair of elderly lesbians in matching flannels a few booths over that Woojin knows by name because Daehwi walked their dogs last summer. It’s as alone as he can get right now. 

The faulty but peaceful lonesomeness doesn’t last longer than ten minutes. He hasn’t even begun to think about all the depths of the conversations he’s going to have to hold, explanations he’s going to have to make and jokes he’s going to have to endure, when the melodious sound of the entrance bell sounds through the room. 

Woojin is determined to ignore it and force himself into some sort of strawberry induced trance that will make all his problems seem naught, but even the strawberries can’t make him ignore the fact that steps are coming his way, and then a shadow falls over his booth. 

Woojin is comically reminded of a similar situation only a week before, but this time Jihoon doesn’t dump a stack of flyers on him only to promptly disappear again. Woojin kind of wishes he would. 

Jihoon blinks down at him for precisely four painful seconds, before he takes one last step and then sits down across the table. His hands fold neatly on top of it and Woojin starts to feel like he is part of a 60s themed interrogation. 

He does the best thing he can think of and starts asking questions before Jihoon can. 

“How did you know I was here?” 

“I asked your brother.” It’s an excruciatingly short and easy answer, and Woojin can’t come up with any substantial follow-up questions. He suppresses the urge to curse and nods instead, with a slightly strained smile. 

“That makes sense. So… ‘Sup?” The smile smoothly goes over into a cringe, as Jihoon goes back to blinking at him in that unimpressed way of his. 

When it seems clear to everyone involved, that Woojin isn’t gonna backtrack, even with the knowledge about his mistake, and Jihoon’s generous blinks as an escape, Jihoon sighs. Woojin thinks his own stupidity is quite impressive, but Jihoon doesn’t seem to share the sentiment as he levels Woojin with a look that might have also been a glare. 

“I just want to make very clear, that I am not looking for a relationship. I have a lot going--” 

Woojin holds up a hand. “You have made that very clear, and I understood you the first time.” 

As a rare exception in this life, he says his next words with the conviction of a person who knows his beliefs to be something of indisputable truth. Like a missionary, or a high schooler who googled the answer under his desk, or those people on late-night television who try to sell their household appliances. 

“I’m not trying to date you, Park Jihoon.” 

That, finally, seems to impress Jihoon. Or at least it seems to throw him off a tiny little bit, and Woojin is a strong believer in celebrating small victories. 

“You--” Jihoon starts, and Woojin has to force himself not to grin at the older’s apparent bewilderment. “Listen. Either you’re a very good actor, or you’re entirely serious--” 

“I am.” Woojin nods. 

He didn’t know that it had been his one goal in life to say something that manages to totally baffle Park Jihoon, but as Woojin watches Jihoon blink at him, unable to form a reply, he feels a sort of accomplishment that he doesn’t think he’ll feel at any other point in his life. Maybe this is how people feel when they get an Oscar, or when they win a presidential election. 

After about a minute of intense silence, Jihoon finally brings out: “You kissed me. That, we can agree on, yes?” 

It seems like he is on some kind of emergency protocol, starting to go through a prepared set of yes or no question to get back to a status quo he could deal with. Woojin doesn’t feel like messing with that, so he just nods and then takes a long sip from his milkshake. He wonders if Jihoon likes strawberries. 

“And you did that, even though I quite literally rejected you only a minute before. Correct?” Jihoon asks next. 

Woojin shrugs, because while it’s technically what happened, it’s not like there was any reason for Jihoon to reject Woojin in the first place. If he nodded, that would have only made Jihoon get the wrong idea again. 

But a shrug, so it seems, is not an option in Park Jihoon’s Fail Safe Emergency Program. His brows knit up. “What does that _mean_?” He demands. 

Woojin sighs. So much to not messing with it. 

“I only kissed you so someone would see and wouldn’t think I want to kiss them.” He explains. “That would have been a very tricky situation for me.” 

Jihoon’s face is still contorted in confusion. “Why would someone think that?” 

“Because they also got a letter.” 

“You wrote _multiple_?!” 

“Yep.” Woojin nods, popping the _p_. 

“Who else did you write to?” 

Woojin doesn’t understand why that’s relevant for Jihoon to know, so he just blinks at the older for a moment, until Jihoon adds: “For the record, I still think this is a very elaborate prank.” 

Woojin scrunches his face up in a pained grimace. Looks like full disclosure is the only way to get Jihoon off his back. He spares a thought for the irony of needing to get the boy he kissed only a few hours earlier to leave him alone, then he starts explaining everything, starting with his history notes in sophomore year and ending with him bolting from Yena and Yukhei this morning. 

“As you can see, I’m in enough of a situation without you being on my case, so if you could just leave me in my misery to die…” He trails off, hoping Jihoon will get the hint. 

“Wait, so, you only kissed me so your brother’s boyfriend would think you like me and not him?” 

“Pretty much, yeah.” Woojin confirms with an enthusiastic nod. Jihoon is understanding. That surely means Jihoon will leave soon. 

“So what are you gonna tell him?” 

He kind of wants to reply that that’s exactly what he was planning to panic about before Jihoon so rudely interrupted him, but he feels like that would be lame, so he just shrugs. It’s meant to come off as careless amd suave, but he reckons it seems pretty pitiful. “The truth, I guess. That I only kissed you because I panicked.” 

Jihoon nods, and Woojin desperately wants to ignore the cogs he can clearly see turning in the others head. He hopes Jihoon will just get up and leave despite them, but instead Jihoon says: “What if you didn’t have to?” 

“...What?” 

Jihoon clears his throat. “What if you didn’t tell Daniel, or your brother, that it was fake. Or Yukhei. Or anyone.” 

“But then they would all think we have, like, a thing.” The thought alone is ridiculous. Him and Jihoon having a _thing_. Woojin has to keep himself from snorting, because there are people out of his league and then there is _Park Jihoon_. 

“Listen, Woojin.” Jihoon sighs, and Woojin thinks it sounds way too condescending, way too business-like, like Jihoon is trying to convince him of the best bank service to choose. “I told you that I don’t have time for a relationship, and I don’t.” 

Woojin nods. “And I told you that I don’t want a relationship, and I don’t.” 

Jihoon nods as well. It could nearly fool someone into thinking they were on the same page. Woojin thinks they’re not even reading the same book. 

“But this could be beneficial for the both of us.” 

“What could?!” Woojin can’t help but let a little too much of his confusion leak into his voice. 

“If we let people believe we are dating, you won’t have to deal with your brother and his boyfriend. At the same time, everyone at school will be talking about our sudden and unexpected relationship, but I won’t actually have to spend the time on it that I would spend on an actual relationship.” 

It takes a few moments for the puzzle pieces to slot into place in Woojin’s mind. He hears an echo of something Hyungseob said last week at lunch.

_”Jihoon’s gonna need some serious publicity stunts to keep his title this year.”_

He blows some air out of his pursed lips, an appreciative huff: “Is winning against Jiwoo really worth all this hassle?” 

Jihoon shakes his head patiently: “That’s the point, Woojin. There’ll be no hassle.” 

“Well,” Woojin says with a little shrug of his shoulder. “If this is so important to your career…” 

Jihoon’s eyes snap up at him again, something akin to surprise in them. It only grows when Woojin continues: “And you did say how it would help _me_ , so I don’t see why we shouldn’t.” 

With a small smile on his lips, Jihoon nods. “Right!” 

It’s silent for a few seconds after that. Woojin wonders if this is usually how people get boyfriends. 

“So…” He hums. “How do we go about this, do we make rules, or a contract, or do we just, I don’t know, shake hands? Or a pinky promise? Those are fun, and entirely valid, by the way.” 

“Rules.” Jihoon repeats with another nod. “Rules sound good.” 

And only a few minutes later, after Jihoon asks Eunbi for a Vanilla shake and a piece of paper, they sit over a list, creatively titled _R U L E S_. Jihoon’s handwriting is all round and kind of bubbly, and Woojin thinks it’s awfully fitting. 

“Okay, first rule of Fight Club: You don’t talk about Fight Club.” Jihoon states, and puts down on the list: _We can’t tell anyone, under no circumstances, ever._

“Anyone?” Woojin asks, and Jihoon immediately shakes his head. 

“Not even your closest friends. If word gets out about this it would be--” He emphasizes his words with a short dramatic pause as he points the pen accusingly at Woojin’s face. “Very bad.” 

Briefly, Woojin considers trying to tell Jihoon about his inability to lie and keep a secret, but the pen, nearly close enough to his nose to leave a mark, and Jihoon’s dead-set determination make a compelling argument, for now. He’ll pass that bridge when he’ll get to it. 

“Alright, no snitching.” He nods. “Even though we’ll have to pull up some really convincing fronts so _everyone_ will believe us.” 

“Of course. You’re going to walk me to and from classes.” Jihoon announces. 

As Woojin watches him write it down on the list, he frowns. “That’s it? That’s how you’re going to convince people we’re utterly in love with each other?” 

Jihoon turns narrowed eyes on him. “What’s _your_ idea?” 

Woojin takes the pen from Jihoon’s hand and slides the paper over to himself. In capital letters he writes: _PDA_

Jihoon across from him makes a little noise that sounds somewhat like a cough, somewhat like a hiccup, and entirely unhealthy. When Woojin looks up he’s still trying to clear his throat, but it doesn’t seem like he’s in danger of choking to death, so Woojin elects to do him the favour and ignore it. 

“If we want a hoard of teenagers to believe we’re dating, we will have to let them see we are. Especially if you want people to talk about it.” He explains. 

“So you’re planning to just kiss me out of the blue again?” Jihoon’s voice still sounds a little strained. 

Woojin takes a second to reply. “I’m sorry for that.” He starts, but Jihoon shakes his head. 

“It-- It’s alright.” He waves off. “Just… Let’s not make it a habit.” 

Woojin supposes there’s better things to spend your days doing than living in constant fear of the weird guy you’re fake-dating for convenience planting one on you, so he nods. 

“We could… Think of a set schedule.” He thinks aloud. “A quota of acceptable situations and places to-- To kiss.” He wonders why his face suddenly feels hot. 

Again, Jihoon clears his throat. Woojin thinks he might still have a honey-flavoured cough drop somewhere in his bag. 

“How about we agree on… On three kisses a day. That’s the maximum, and we can place them according to, uh, to convenience.” 

“Like, when a lot of people are around?” Woojin asks, but he doesn’t wait for Jihoon to nod before he leans down over the list again and starts putting the amendments down. 

His face still feels hot and this is the last conversation he ever planned to have with Park Jihoon of all people. 

“Alright.” He mumbles when he’s done. “Okay. Okay, so… Anything else?” 

Jihoon takes a moment to reply. Woojin takes a tentative glance and sees that his eyes are carefully trained on the straw in his milkshake, his teeth are worrying his bottom lip. 

Woojin nearly misses it when Jihoon says: “Homecoming.” 

“What about it?” 

“If we’re still doing this whole thing by then, we’ll have to go together.” Jihoon elaborates. “And student rep is announced a week after that, so…” 

Woojin nods, slowly, because logically he understands what Jihoon is getting at, but then he cuts himself off. 

“Are you sure you want to spend your _senior homecoming_ with a fake date?” 

Simply by virtue of being Park Jihoon, Jihoon deserves a Hollywood-worthy homecoming night. Woojin is pretty sure there’s a movie script being written about it at this exact moment. 

Still, Jihoon seems to have no qualms with the change of plans. “Yes” He replies, as if Woojin asked if he was planning to bring shoes to this important high school function, not some weirdo instead of a hot date.

Woojin blinks at him. “You take this whole student rep thing pretty serious, don’t you?” 

There’s no immediate reply. Jihoon isn’t even looking at him, but apparently very interested in the sleeves of his sweater that he had pulled down to cover most of his hands. Probably a few beats later than socially acceptable, Jihoon mumbles: “Seems like I do, yeah.” 

It strikes Woojin as weird, but it’s not like he is the strongest defender of socially acceptable conversational etiquette. He’s not gonna police anyone on it, especially not Park Jihoon.

After a few more moments, just to make sure Jihoon doesn’t have anything more to add, he nods once, with purpose, and goes to put _Homecoming_ down on their list. 

“Do you want one of those cheesy signs with glitter letters that say _I’m a loser, please go to prom with me?_ ” Woojin asks absentmindedly while he signs his name at the bottom of the paper. 

He slides it back over to Jihoon, who reads over it again as if it’s some sort of important document and not a random sheet of paper ripped out of Eunbi’s notebook that holds the rudimentary rules to their sad fake love-life. 

Jihoon sighs, quietly, and then he puts his name down next to Woojin’s. 

“Make the glitter letters pink.” 

“Gotcha.” Woojin grins and shoots a single finger gun over the table before turning to the counter and calling Eunbi over for the check. Jihoon coughs again. 

They step out of the diner a few minutes later, and Jihoon has to hold the door for Woojin because he has his head buried halfway in his backpack, sorting through the crumpled up notes at the bottom. 

“There we go!” He exclaims as the door falls shut behind them and resurfaces, a battered up but still intact cough drop in his hand. 

Jihoon looks at it like it’s gonna jump him when Woojin holds it up in front of his face. 

“It’s honey-flavoured.” Woojin explains, but Jihoon’s expression doesn’t change. “For your throat. Because you keep coughing.” Woojin tacks on. 

“O-oh.” Understanding dawns on Jihoon’s face. “Yeah, I- Uh. Thank you.” 

He takes the cough drop but doesn’t actually eat it, just shovesit into his pocket.

“Well, I’ll, uh… I’ll see you around, Woojin.” He says, then coughs again. Woojin wants to tell him that he could just eat the cough drop, but his face feels weirdly warm again and he kind of wants to leave as quickly as possible. 

“Definitely.” He nods. “Since we’re dating now, and all.” 

“Yeah. Yeah exactly.” Jihoon agrees. “Okay, so I’ll just--” 

He awkwardly gestures to the side, before he turns that way promptly and starts power walking down the sidewalk. 

Woojin makes his way to his car, puts the key into the ignition and then halts. 

“What the hell?” He asks into the rearview mirror. 

*** 

It’s weird, dating Jihoon. 

It’s weirdest in the very beginning, when Woojin has to endure several interrogations by his friend, and some by complete strangers, and he and Jihoon have to make sure their vague answers are the same kind of vague. They make a habit out of sitting together at lunch so they don’t have to worry about plot holes, and Woojin makes a habit of convincing Jihoon to let him drive him home. 

They spend the short ride working on their backstory. It takes them nearly a week to agree on who liked who first, and by the end of it everyone at school seems to know a different version anyways. It turns out that that’s actually not a bad thing at all. 

“There’s rumours.” Hyungseob announces excitedly about two weeks in at lunch once. “And surely you’ll tell _me_ which ones are true, right?” 

He bats his eyelashes, and Woojin is just about to tell him _his_ favourite version of the story, because Jihoon is busy comparing his homework to Yeri’s besides him, but Sohye cuts him off. 

“That’s their business. Go be sad and single somewhere else, you leech.” 

The two of them start discussing which one of them is more sad and single, and that’s that. 

When their backstory is entirely perfected, and entirely irrelevant, the drives to Jihoon’s house turn into pop quizzes. 

“You need to know your boyfriend’s favourite music.” Jihoon announces one time, and proceeds to put on the entirety of _Electra Heart_. By the third week they have a constantly growing playlist between the two of them. 

And the playlist isn’t only on in the ten minutes it takes to get from school to Jihoon’s house. 

“I’m in the public eye, Woojin.” Jihoon says with a roll of his eye, before making Woojin drive him to the park, or the mall, or even a doctor’s appointment at one point. 

“And you can’t get your own license there?” Woojin gives back, but there’s no bite behind it, as his head bops along to some Carly Rae Jepsen song and he takes a left. 

Jihoon just grins at him from the passenger seat. Woojin glances over for a second too long and runs over a red light. Jihoon doesn’t notice. 

Daehwi loves Jihoon, and Woojin suffers for it. Minhyun thinks Jihoon is hilarious, and Woojin suffers for it. 

More often than he’d like to admit, when the three of them band together over dinner to make fun of him, Woojin is that close to just lean over and tell Daniel across from him the whole truth. But… 

The plan had worked nearly without a hitch. Daniel had hesitated exactly two seconds when he walked in and Daehwi loudly proclaimed that ‘This is _Jihoon_ ’ and ‘He is Woojin’s _boyfriend_ ’. 

And it’s not like it’s particularly hard to pretend to be in love with Jihoon. There is a seemingly endless plethora of things that Woojin can talk about at length, regarding Jihoon, like the way all his sweaters are too big on him, or how his hair is always just that slightly bit messed up, no matter what he does with it, or the fact that somewhere along the two months they’ve been doing this for Jihoon switched from a cherry flavoured chapstick to a bubblegum flavoured one. 

He reckons he sounds pretty in love when the situation calls for it. 

“... So the thing is, we were all there, just chilling, and then Jaemin goes--” 

“Yeri, I’m gonna stop you right there.” Jihoon holds up a hand as the three of them reach Woojin’s Ford.

The parking lot is remotely crowded, a few groups of seniors milling around talking, two cars incessantly honking at each other at the opposite end of it, some more students just starting to file out of the school building. No one is paying attention to them, except for Yerim, and she is doing it by glaring at Jihoon for interrupting her riveting story. 

Still, Jihoon sidles up to Woojin and wraps an arm around his waist. The first few times he did that, it sent jolts up Woojin’s spine, but he’s grown accustomed to the way Jihoon just _fits_ by his side. 

“You still owe me a kiss.” Jihoon smiles. 

It’s a little game they started, because Woojin had blurted it out on accident during the first week. ( _”Jihoon, wait, what about the third kiss?!”_ ) 

It’s fascinating how many details about their fake relationship they manage to slip into everyday conversation without anyone suspecting a thing. Be it their required number of kisses, or Woojin worrying out loud that his brothers are getting way too attached to Jihoon or Jihoon reminding Woojin five times during lunch that he _has_ to walk him to class, it’s all just met with a-- 

“Ugh, gross.” Yerim rolls her eyes as Jihoon pulls Woojin down a bit by his shirt and presses their lips together. He still tastes like bubblegum. “Get a room.” 

“Can’t.” Jihoon throws back. “You gotta help me understand calc, remember?” And with that, he links his arm with Yerim’s and throws a wave over his shoulder. “See you at Jiwon’s party tomorrow, babe.” 

Woojin gives a thumbs up back and takes perhaps a second too long to stare after them, before he remembers he is on dinner duty for tonight and still needs to get groceries. He drops his keys twice as he tries to unlock his car in a haste and by the time he finds the right one, a hand reaches over his shoulder and keeps the door closed. 

“Dan, I’m in a hurry.” He huffs, turning around. 

“Dinner duty?” Daniel asks and gives a sympathetic grimace when Woojin nods. “Okay I’ll make this quick.” 

Woojin raises his eyebrows in expectation, and after a few moments, Daniel continues: “I didn’t really know how to bring it up, because, well… I just didn’t know how. And when. But…” 

Impending doom knocks at the door to Woojin’s gut, very carefully and friendly. 

“About the letter.” 

Impending doom kicks the door down and immediately makes itself at home, hogging all the snacks and putting on the most terrible playlist. It’s a mess. 

“Oh.” Is all Woojin gets out. 

“Yeah, uh, I just wanted to make sure that we’re cool?” 

Woojin blinks. “Why wouldn’t we be?” 

“That’s what I thought too.” Daniel nods with a laugh. “Just... Don’t get me wrong, it’s totally cool that I was your gay awakening and stuff, my roommate always says that’s, like, his life goal. You should have seen his face when I told him, it was beautiful--” 

Woojin cringes, and Daniel interrupts himself. 

“Anyways, I’m honoured. But I have Minhyun now, and you have Jihoon, and we’re cool, right?” 

“Definitely.” Woojin nods, 100% certain that it’s the truth for five seconds too long, before he remembers that he doesn’t actually _have_ Jihoon, that their plan is just working exactly like Jihoon had said. 

He feels only marginally guilty. Everything else was still true, they’re cool, and Daniel has Minhyun… 

“Daniel.” Woojin breathes, recalling how Daniel had just mentioned that he showed the letter to his roommate. Jaehwan is a cool guy, but Woojin would still prefer him not to know about every little thing about Daniel he’d obsessed over when he was 13. Still, this isn’t Woojin’s main concern. “You didn’t tell Minhyun about this, right?” 

Daniel’s eyebrows shoot up in a way that’s almost comical. “I assumed he already knew. You guys tell each other everything.” 

“Not if we have crushes on each other’s boyfriends.” 

Daniel nods in understanding. “Well, I haven’t. And I can assure you that Minhyun doesn’t have a crush on Jihoon, by the way. Or ever did.” 

Woojin snorts and Daniel grins, and they’re cool. Woojin nearly forgets that he still has to pick up groceries. 

*** 

Jihoon has changed his chapstick to bubblegum, but his cologne has stayed the same, and Woojin is momentarily paralyzed by the smell of cherries when Jihoon steps in closely. 

“Your hair is a mess.” He mumbles, running his hand through Woojin’s fringe. Woojin thinks his hair looks fine and he also thinks Jihoon isn’t doing a good job at fixing anything, but there’s too much cherry to focus on replying. He can faintly hear the music playing behind the closed door to Jiwon’s house. 

Jihoon messes with the same strand of hair for another few moments, then deems his work done with a decisive nod. 

“Am I pretty now?” Woojin asks. His voice comes out quiet, even though there’s only the two of them out here. Maybe it’s because of that. 

Jihoon grins. “Of course, always.” He says, just as quietly, and moves his hand from Woojin’s hair to pat his cheek twice. It’s weirdly affectionate. Woojin doesn’t realize he’s still smiling by the time Jiwon opens the door for them. 

It takes him exactly 20 minutes to lose Jihoon. That much he expected, Jihoon is on a friendly _‘Oh my god I haven’t talked to you in ages let me tell you my whole life story’_ basis with more than half the people here, while Woojin occasionally smiles at some of them in the hallways. 

He’s currently sitting on Jiwon’s couch, and he thinks Troye Sivan is playing in the background, and he’s playing a fun drinking game with himself. Everytime he sees someone whose full name he knows, he drinks. 

He’s barely through the first cup of whatever it was Jiwon’s girlfriend shoved into his hands earlier, when Mark Lee sits down next to him. 

They share a few classes, and Mark is one of Jihoon’s closest friends, or maybe he’s just dating one of Jihoon’s closest friends. The details are escaping Woojin, but he knows that sometimes Mark joins them with the rest of Jihoon’s friends at lunch, and he knows his full name, so he drinks. 

And then he nearly chokes, when Mark says: “You’re not really dating Jihoon.” 

When he manages to dislodge Jiwon’s booze from hell from his airpipes he forces the most genuine smile on his face with a robotic laugh. “What?” 

“I don’t buy it.” Mark elaborates with a shake of his head. He turns a bit on the couch so he’s fully facing Woojin and raises a hand to point right into Woojin’s face. “I don’t believe it. It’s just not realistic.” 

Faintly, Woojin realizes that Mark’s words are slightly slurred and he maybe had a bit too much of the mystery punch already, but it’s drowned out by louder realizations. 

Mark is Jihoon’s friend. He knows Jihoon. And Mark doesn’t think it’s realistic that Jihoon would date Woojin. 

Theoretically, this is something Woojin knows to be true. It’s something he brought up to Jihoon multiple times, and Jihoon laughed it off every time. But it was and is and forever will be an indisputable fact of the universe: People like Jihoon don’t date people like Woojin. They date quarterbacks, cheerleaders, future presidents. In Jihoon’s case, he _is_ the future president, and Woojin is so far out of his orbit it’s sometimes painful to remind himself that they’re pretending to be in the same, just for the moment. 

As soon as this is over they’ll go back to floating light years away from each other. Another indisputable fact of the universe. Woojin should know this, does know this, shouldn’t be surprised to remember it. 

But something about Mark’s words, something more than the fact that he has looked through their act, is unsettling Woojin. 

He is _bothered._ He is maybe even downright upset that Mark put into words what he’s known for weeks, years, has known ever since freshman year. 

Jihoon is too good for him. 

A voice cuts through the haze of Woojin's mind. 

“Oh, look! There's my boyfriend, and your… your Woojin! We're doing _amazing_!” 

Upon hearing his name, Woojin turns and sees Lee Donghyuck, attached to Jihoon's arm and pulling him towards the couch. 

As Donghyuck releases Jihoon from his death grip and all but falls into Mark's lap, he intersects the imploring stare Mark has had on Woojin. Promptly, Woojin realizes another thing. Mark doesn't believe that he is dating Jihoon. _Your Woojin_ , Donghyuck said. 

People know they're dating, people are talking about it. Woojin can tell people are staring during lunch when Jihoon and him walk in together, when Jihoon stands a little closer than necessary, laughs a little louder. That's what it's _supposed_ to be like, because that's Jihoon's entire plan. 

But what if Mark will talk about this to other people? What if others will doubt their whole thing? It’s more than possible that other people will realize how fishy it is that someone like Jihoon would settle for someone like Woojin, and if the word got out, that would be terrible. Not for Woojin himself, he couldn't care less about what the rest of the school thinks about him, if he's honest to himself, but it would ruin Jihoon's entire plan and his shot at student rep. 

All of this is so very important to Jihoon, Woojin knows. Jihoon talks about it a lot, with an excited gleam in his eyes, about needing the position on his resumé to help his chances at a scholarship, about _changing things_ in the long-run, about his future. Even when he's just telling Woojin about the decoration for the student council room he's planning, Woojin can't help but be enamoured by Jihoon's enthusiasm. 

He can't risk all of this just because he's _him_. People might not buy that Jihoon _would_ normally date him, but Woojin can do everything in his power to make them believe that Jihoon _is_ dating him. 

All of this happens in Woojin's head, very fast, as Mark pulls Donghyuck down on the couch on his other side to keep him from falling. 

Before Woojin can think more on it, he takes Jihoon by the hand and pulls him into his lap. Jihoon yelps quietly, and it's not even remotely graceful, but after a moment, Jihoon has his knees securely on either side of Woojin's hips and is blinking down at him. He's much closer than Woojin anticipated. 

“Hi?” He says, over the music and the noise of the crowd. 

“Hey.” Woojin gives back, but it comes out a little strained for reasons beyond him. “I missed you.” 

His chest feels a little constricted, like when he realized his inferiority when talking to Mark, just a little something more. 

Jihoon laughs. “I've been gone for, maybe, half an hour--” He starts, but Woojin thinks he sees Mark quietly saying something to Donghyuck from the corner of his eyes and Jihoon's smile is making his chest feel even _more_ , so he doesn't let him finish. 

In one quick movement, he reaches up and pulls Jihoon down, crashing their lips together. 

Jihoon makes a noise of surprise, a little hum against Woojin’s lips, before he brings his hands up to Woojin's chest and slots their lips against each other more evenly. 

Jihoon's lips are a little chapped under Woojin's, and his hair is soft where Woojin is running his hand through it, and his skin is warm where Woojin is holding onto his waist, Jihoon's shirt having ridden up a bit. And instead of going back to normal, the feeling of _something more_ goes from Woojin's chest to his fingertips, where he's touching Jihoon, to his nape, sending a shiver over it, to his cheeks, making them tingle and feel hot.

It's in his heartbeat as it takes off fluttering, and in the shaky breath he takes when Jihoon pulls back a second later and quietly breathes: “What was that for?” 

It's in his mind, making his thoughts reel and still entirely at the same time as he doesn't reply to Jihoon, just leans back in again, and again, and again. 

He doesn't know how long they sit there for, doesn't know anything beyond the feeling of Jihoon's lips, Jihoon's hands, Jihoon's skin, until Jihoon presses two fingers to his lips and leans back on his lap. 

Woojin takes a second to take in his surroundings, take in that they're alone on the couch, that the party has simmered down around them, that the lights seem to be on even lower than before, the music seems quieter, and Jihoon is still looking at him. 

“That was more than three kisses.” Jihoon notes. It doesn't sound accusing or appreciative, it just sounds like an observation, and Woojin nods, neither accusing nor appreciative, just a confirmation. Jihoon nods as well, to himself. Woojin thinks the song playing from the speakers is by Owl City. 

*** 

Things are peculiar after that. 

Woojin wouldn't say they're awkward, wouldn't even call it tense, but something is different and it's clear to everyone. 

“Trouble in paradise?” Yena jokingly asks him one day after lunch, but she doesn’t explain what's brought it on, and Sohye says something about their homework and they don't talk about it again. 

Yerim looks at him funny the next time they're paired up for a science experiment, but she doesn't say anything, not that period, nor any other over the next two weeks. 

Woojin feels it too, but he can't put a finger on it. All he knows is that what happened at the party changed something and he's not entirely sure what that means for him, and for Jihoon, and for Him-and-Jihoon. 

So he waits for Jihoon to tell him what it means, all the while working in the same routine they worked in the months up until now, pretending, acting, up until Jihoon sits down across from him with a sigh at the end of the two weeks. 

It's their usual lunch period, but for some reason Jihoon has pulled him to a table outside, far from where they usually sit with their friends. 

Woojin steels himself, for what, he isn't sure. 

Maybe this is the point where Jihoon calls it quits, and they both can go back to their designated places in the universe, forgetting that this, they, the party, ever happened. 

Or maybe this is the point where Jihoon confronts him, says what Woojin already knows, that Woojin initiated the whole thing on that couch, that Woojin is the weak link in this plan, that he needs to get his shit together, no matter what he feels. 

He's not sure what would be worse, but he's ready to accept either, when Jihoon sighs again and says: “You still need to ask me to homecoming.” 

It takes Woojin a few seconds to realize that Jihoon said _’still’_ , but that he doesn't mean _’even though your stupid feelings ruined everything’_ but rather _’because you haven't done it yet’_. It takes him so long that Jihoon tacks on: “It's in the contract.” 

Everything but conscious, Woojin replies: “If we're still together.” 

It's a direct quote from their contract, and Jihoon knows that, should know that. Still, it seems to surprise him, judging from the look his eyes take on. It's surprise for the smallest moment, then shifts into something else. Maybe disappointment, maybe anger. 

“We _are_ still together.” Jihoon says, and it's not surprised or disappointed or angry, but it's _something_ and it's heavy with emotion. 

Woojin thinks he might know how Jihoon feels, but he also thinks he can't ever know how Jihoon feels and that terrifies him. 

It's as if Jihoon knows _exactly_ what Woojin feels at that moment, another testament of everything Jihoon is that Woojin can never dream to have, everything Jihoon has that Woojin can never dream to be, because his next words are: “What are you so scared of, Woojin?” 

It's soft and quiet in a way that makes Woojin believe it shouldn't be for him, but it is and in his mind the answer is loud and clear: _You. My feelings for you._

But he can't speak them. Woojin is not a selfish person, but in this moment all he can think is that he hasn't yet scared Jihoon off, that it's gonna happen eventually, yes, but not yet, and Jihoon wants them to resume with their plan, and that means that Woojin can be with him for just that little bit longer. 

So he pretends he never heard Jihoon's last question, puts on a grin and says: “I'll get to work on your glittery sign as soon as I get home.” 

*** 

Woojin never had strong feelings about school dances before. He attends them, because his friends do, and he likes his friends. Usually they have a good time. Sometimes it’s kind of boring. But he never would have said that he particularly likes or dislikes them. 

When he parks his car in front of Jihoon’s house that evening, he realizes that he suddenly has a lot of very strong feelings about school dances, about this school dance in particular, about the company he’s going to have for this school dance in particular. A lot of feelings and a lot of thoughts. 

Should he just text Jihoon that he’s there, or is that rude? Should he get out of the car and _then_ text? Or should he get out, walk up to the door, ring the doorbell, say _’Good evening Mrs. Park, I’m here to pick up your son._ and then wait until Jihoon’s mother took embarrassing pictures of them and made him promise to have Jihoon home before 12-- Woojin shakes his head. That’s what _real_ dates do. 

_hi it’s your uber driver_ he texts Jihoon, then he slips his phone into his pocket and drums his fingers against the steering wheel.

He isn’t supposed to feel this nervous, it’s what a _real_ date should make him feel. But he is, and he supposes he can’t blame his fluttering heart for getting confused about this fake date with his fake boyfriend he has real feelings for. 

Briefly he wonders what he would be doing now, had the letters never been sent. He probably would be at a friend’s house, they’d be in the middle of discussing whether they should really go, or whether they should just stay in and watch a movie and stuff their faces with takeout. Sohye, ever the voice of reason, would remind everyone that they already bought their tickets and that all the time they had put into dressing up wouldn’t go to waste, not under her watch, and they’d go on their way fashionably late. He recalls Sohye’s fond eye roll when he told them he wouldn’t join them for their usual pre-dance rituals this time. 

It’s weird, lying to his friends, but not as challenging as he anticipated. Sometimes he forgets he’s telling a lie, and sometimes he remembers, in the middle of telling one, and he realizes in those moments that the actual problem isn’t in lying, it’s in making himself believe that he is lying. On one hand it makes him feel marginally better, considering he isn’t technically lying to his friends about his feelings for Jihoon, but on the other he knows that every single one would be kicking his ass, if they ever found out about this ridiculous dilemma he’s gotten himself into. 

He thinks they’d be right to. 

His thoughts wander, and he imagines what Jihoon would be getting up to right now had he not been stuck with Woojin. Surely, he would have gotten a different date, some overachiever like him, a cheerleader, or someone else from the student council, someone worthy of walking along and smiling as Jihoon gave autographs and kissed babies, and whatever else it is he’s supposed to be doing. If he’s honest, Woojin isn’t sure what Jihoon usually does at dances. He can’t recall one of the juicy morning-after stories Hyungseob shared with the group chat to ever include Jihoon, can’t remember Jihoon being involved in any elaborate promposals. That’s how far out of each other’s orbits they were on every school dance preceding this one. 

And now Jihoon is his date, and he is picking him up, and there’s a knock at the passenger window and when he looks up he sees Jihoon, in a suit, his eyes twinkling in the light of the setting sun and a small smile on his lips as he gets into Woojin’s car and it’s a lot to take in. 

“Excited?” Jihoon asks, and Woojin thinks he probably noticed his death grip on the steering wheel. 

Woojin shrugs, and it feels like a foreign movement, more like a flinch. “I don’t really like school dances.” He grits out. 

It’s not true, but it isn’t wrong. Woojin doesn’t have any strong feelings about school dances, but he does have strong feelings about Jihoon. 

Jihoon nods, in understanding. “That makes sense. I don’t particularly like them either, I usually ditch them as soon as it’s socially acceptable.” He turns to Woojin with another smile. Woojin wishes he would stop doing that. “But tonight’s gonna be fun, right?” 

There’s something in the way he asks that, something nearly uncertain in the way his voice raises at the end, that gives Woojin the impression that it’s not just conversational etiquette and that Jihoon really wants him to confirm that they’re going to have fun. He’s not quite sure why and he’s not quite sure how he’s supposed to reply so he hums. “Is it?” He asks, his eyes trained on the road. 

“Yeah!” Jihoon chirps. “Because we’re going there together.” It still sounds like he’s looking for confirmation, his voice higher than usual with uncertainty Woojin isn’t used to from him.

It’s quiet for a second, because Jihoon is waiting for a reply, and Woojin forgot how to speak, and then suddenly it’s gone. Woojin glances to his side and Jihoon isn’t looking at him anymore, but at his hands on his knees. When he continues speaking, there’s no uncertainty left. “I always have fun with you.” 

Woojin pulls into the school’s parking lot then, and he is glad because had they still been out in the road, he probably would have crashed the car. Daehwi would have had a field day with that. 

They get out of the car and Jihoon walks up beside him as he locks it. Woojin takes a deep breath while he pretends to fumble with his keys, then turns to him with an all too wide smile. 

“Shall we, then?” He asks, offering his arm for Jihoon to hold onto in an old-timey fashion. It works to diffuse the weird tension in the air, Jihoon laughs, and when he wraps his arms around Woojin’s, Woojin can play off the slight shudder upon contact nearly seamlessly. 

***

He doesn’t know what he expected. 

Maybe he expected it to be like every other school dance he’s been to before, even though Jihoon would there, or maybe he expected it to be entirely different _because_ Jihoon would be there. 

In the end, it’s neither. It’s like every other dance, in the sense that there’s shitty music playing, and at one point Yena whisks him away to the dance floor for about 20 minutes, and he can see Mr. Ha walking around and discreetly stealing all the red skittles from the little bowls all around the decorated gym. And yet it’s like nothing Woojin ever experienced because Jihoon is next to him, and he laughs every time Woojin complains about the song choices, and he smiles at him when Yena lets him leave the dance floor as if he’s genuinely happy he’s back and one time he manages to talk Mr. Ha into sharing his red skittles with them. 

It’s hard to remember this is all fake when the lights are turned down low and Jihoon’s eyes reflect the fairylights strung along the walls and Woojin can hear him hum along to every other song under his breath. The lighting is soft red and pink, blinking yellow and blue every once in a while, and it’s exactly what Woojin feels like when he catches himself staring for too long. 

He can’t help but agree with what Jihoon said earlier. It’s fun. But it’s also a lot, barely scratching on the surface of too much, still just in the grasp of not enough.

And Woojin can’t make it more or less, because it’s all fake. 

It would be depressing, he guesses, if he had the chance to actually think about it. 

Currently, Lee Seoyeon and Han Jisung are up on stage, very excitedly informing everyone that the announcement of this year’s Homecoming King and Queen would take place in only half an hour. 

“The competition this year is tough.” Seoyeon says into the microphone. 

“And so gay.” Jisung adds. Somewhere in the crowd there’s a cheerful whoop. Woojin is pretty sure it’s Hyungseob. “The nominees for this year” Jisung continues, “Are last year’s winners, Kim Hyunjin and Lee Jeno, as well as Kim Jiwoo and Kim Jungeun and Park Jihoon and Park Woojin.” 

They talk about some other things, but Woojin stops paying attention. He’s never cared for that part of the night, and even if he’s actually a part of it this time, he can’t bring himself to care even a tiny bit more. He tries, very genuinely so, but his resolve is thrown out the window when he turns to Jihoon at the mention of their name and sees the other boy smiling to himself. 

It’s a peculiar kind of smile, one that Woojin hasn’t seen a lot on Jihoon that night. He’s been all wide grins, infectious laughter. But this is more quiet, more for only himself instead of everyone else. It seems like Jihoon isn’t listening to the announcements any more than Woojin is, like he’s in a world of his own. The smile is serene, soft, and it makes Woojin’s heart clench. 

The music starts back up again and Jihoon never stops smiling and he never catches Woojin stare. He doesn’t know how long they’re standing there after the crowd around them starts moving again. It might have been a few seconds as well as a few eternities, when a tap on Woojin’s arm pulls him out if his reverie. 

Kim Hyunjin is grinning up at him. 

“I just wanted to congratulate you two.” She says, loud enough to be heard over the noise. 

“They didn’t announce the winners yet.” Woojin calls back, slightly confused. He couldn’t have been lost in staring at Jihoon’s face for _that_ long. 

Hyunjin rolls her eyes, but she never stops grinning. “Oh, please. _Everyone_ has been talking about you two.” 

To her, that seems to be enough of an explanation, but Woojin still doesn’t really know what to say. He wishes Jihoon would speak up, because Jihoon always has some smart thing to say to everyone, and then they would love and nod and say “Good talk!” or something similar that nobody ever really said in a real-life conversation and nobody had to stammer or hesitate. 

But Jihoon has been quiet this entire time, so Woojin clears his throat and tries: “Well, I mean, that doesn’t-- You could still win, or Jiwoo could, it’s--” He probably would have been left to stammer for the rest of his life on earth, had Jihoon not chosen that exact moment to awake from petrification. 

He doesn’t do it by answering Hyunjin though, and saving Woojin from his misery. Instead, he ignores the on-going conversation he is interrupting, grabs Woojin’s hand and starts pulling him away, all the way across the gym, to the entrance. 

It’s quieter outside, the sun having long set and most students preferring the company and music inside to the chill breeze and clear sky here. Only a few people are scattered here and there, talking among themselves, moving towards the parking lot. 

Jihoon slows down and lets go of Woojin’s hand, but he doesn’t say anything. Woojin’s limited communication skills are really being challenged. 

“Shouldn’t we stay inside?” He asks. “For the announcement?” 

The look Jihoon sends him is a noteworthy mix of curiosity and amusement. “Do you care about that?” He asks. 

Woojin blinks. The easy answer would be No, he doesn’t, couldn’t care less, in fact. But there’s so much more to it, because _Jihoon_ cares about it and he gets that look in his eyes when he talks about it and he smiles like that, so, really, how can Woojin not care? 

Only the corners of Jihoon’s lips are moving upwards slowly, as he waits for Woojin’s answer that never comes and never needs to. He grabs Woojin’s hand again and pulls him a little further away still from the stray groups of people milling around. 

And then he turns away to look out over the expanse of the parking lot and the row of houses beyond that. Woojin sees the light on in Daniel’s living room window, faintly remembers Daniel telling him that he hates school dances because of loud music and even louder teenagers robbing him of his well-deserved rest. He doesn’t pay it more than a little thought, because his mind is immediately back on Jihoon and the way he smiled at him. 

It takes him three tries to get the words out, even though he’s not quite sure why. It’s not like this conversation is any different from any other conversation they’ve had. 

_Only the stars are twinkling above and there’s some boring pop ballad on in the background and Jihoon’s face is illuminated by fairylights and he smiled at him like _that_ and_ \-- 

Woojin shakes his head. 

“Why don’t you care?” He brings out, finally. To him, his voice sounds strange, laden with something. He hopes Jihoon doesn’t notice. 

Woojin doubts for a second that Jihoon even noticed that he said something, because he just continues to stare out in the distance. He doesn’t have the guts to say more. He doesn’t know if the feeling knotting up his stomach is pity or annoyance for himself. It feels oddly like something else entirely when Jihoon huffs a short laugh and turns back to him. 

When he replies it’s not actually a reply at all. 

“Jiwoo pulled out of the running for student rep two days before Jiwon’s party. Did you know that?” 

Woojin did not know that. If he had the ability to speak his mind around Jihoon, he maybe would tell him that he forgets about the student rep campaign all the time, that he hates to think about it because it reminds him about the expiration date on everything they’re pretending to have. 

He doesn’t have that ability, so he just shakes his head. 

Jihoon laughs again. “Voting starts on Monday, you would have found out then.” 

Woojin can’t do anything but nod, and Jihoon doesn’t say anything more. 

It takes Woojin a few minutes to realize what it means. 

With Jiwoo out of the running, Jihoon is the only contender for student rep, meaning he will definitely get the position next week. Meaning he doesn’t need any sort of publicity stunt anymore. Meaning he has no reason to stay with Woojin. And he’s known this for weeks. He’s known it at Jiwon’s party. 

Woojin also realizes another thing. 

“I talked to Daniel the day of the party.” He says, quietly. “We’re cool.” 

And Jihoon laughs again. 

“We’re both selfish pricks, huh?” He asks, and it’s an accusation but unbelievably soft at the same time, something that could only come out of Jihoon’s mouth. 

“Are we?” Woojin gives back. He knows that he is, but Jihoon had talked about _them_ and the sheer notion makes his heart hammer against his ribcage. 

Jihoon faces him, then, in one swift motion, and takes a step closer to him. “You tell me.” He breathes. 

Woojin takes a moment to just look at him, really look at him, and not at the lights reflecting in his eyes and the light smudge of eyeshadow in the corner of his eye. 

Often over the course of the last few months, Woojin has felt something tugging at his heartstring, something _more_ , that he only accepted and named as that during the party. It wasn’t ever anything he would have demanded from Jihoon, because he had been so very sure that it wasn’t something Jihoon would be willing to give, but right now, as he looked beyond the lights and the glitter, and if he assured himself that he isn’t lying to himself, he can see it. Warm brown, intersected by golden specks of _something more._

It’s what makes him ask: “This is fake, right?” 

And again, Jihoon smiles that peculiar smile, the one that seems like it’s only for him. Only this time, Woojin feels like it’s maybe for him, too. He takes another step closer to Woojin, their noses nearly brushing. 

“You tell me.” He whispers, before he leans in. 

***

“Woojin, Woojin. Woojin. Woojin. Wooj--” 

“Woojin wants you to know, that he hates you.” 

Daehwi immediately levels a glare at Jihoon. Undeterred, Jihoon continues: “He also wants you to tell me where he hid that fancy chocolate that--” 

“You’re not gonna use me to steal my own chocolate.” Woojin grumbles from where he’s leaning against Jihoon’s shoulder on the couch.

He sits up then and narrows his eyes at Daehwi. 

“Weren’t you going to go to Guanlin’s?” 

“I was.” Daehwi nods. “But he had a thing so now I’m stuck here and I’m bored.” 

Woojin stares him down for another moment, assessing, then shrugs and falls back against Jihoon. “Doesn’t sound like my problem.” He decides. 

“But Minhyun is hanging out with Daniel!” Daehwi whines. 

“And I’m hanging out with Jihoon.” Woojin tells him, gesturing exaggeratedly above his and Jihoon’s head. “So it’s really not my problem.” 

“And who do you owe that too?!” Daehwi exclaims, crossing his arms over his chest. 

It reminds Woojin a lot of when Daehwi was five years old and Woojin and Minhyun didn’t let him choose the movie. Briefly he wonders if Daehwi is going to be quiet if they let him have the remote, just like back then, before he realizes something. 

“Why would I owe that to you?” He asks. 

It looks like Daehwi is going to throw something back at him for a second, before his eyebrows shoot up nearly comically and he immediately begins to back out of the room. 

“You don’t. You don’t owe that to me. I have nothing to do with it. I don’t know anything about any letters.” 

And only a few seconds later Woojin can hear him running up the stairs. 

It’s quiet in the living room for a solid minute before Jihoon speaks up: “So… Daehwi totally sent out the letters.” He states. 

“Yep.” Woojin nods. 

“Aren’t you going to go after him, and, I don’t know, yell at him?” 

Woojin purses his lips in thought, then looks up at Jihoon. “Nah.” 

Jihoon blinks down at him in surprise. “Why not?” 

Woojin grins and grabs a hold of Jihoon’s hand to intertwine their fingers. 

“I kind of do owe him, I guess.”

**Author's Note:**

> (i had way too much fun with working in as many random cameos as i could)
> 
> (dont forget to wish woojin a happy birthday!!)


End file.
